Untamable
by TheFoxyTails
Summary: Set during Riddick (2013) and contains spoliers. Riddick/OC (Dejah). Currently rated T for language, but we'll see where things go after we meet up with our favorite convict. ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first time writing pretty much anything at all and I'm posting this on my birthday, so please be kind. I really hope you enjoy it.**

**.**

Untamable

_"I'd love to try to tame you... And I would simply adore it if you turn out untamable..."  
-Simona Panova_

Chapter One

Dejah hated cryo-sleep. They said you were unconscious in the chamber but she never truly slept; she was paralyzed for the most part, only able to shift her position every now and again or force her eyes open to stare at the empty wall across from her. She was acutely aware of her surroundings with only her thoughts, the irritatingly antiseptic smell of the chamber, and the steady hum of the ship for company.

Without warning, the spacecraft jerked sideways with a _crash_. Alarms blared and red lights flashed against metallic walls. The cryo-chamber ejected her, opening the wide, glass door at its mouth. She stepped out gently, stretching her limbs with feline grace and took a moment to glance around. Allen had tumbled out of his chamber and lay on the floor, gasping and shaking. He would be fine, she assumed. Instead, she made her way into the flight deck and leaned over the chair of the pilot, a man she knew simply as Mac.

"What's going on?" she shouted over the sirens.

"A meteor storm caused a system's failure," he said, his fingers darting across keyboards as he stared at screens filled with computer code. "And we're hemorrhaging air so I had to take us inside the atmosphere."

Allen staggered drunkenly into the room and wrapped one arm around Dejah's waist while the other smoothed her dark brown locks away from her face. He asked her if she was alright and she nodded absentmindedly, bored.

"How the hell did you let something hit us?" Allen's voice was hoarse and thick from sleep.

"I told you the radar was broken but you didn't want to stop to fix it."

"We have a prior engagement in Jericho Prime!"

"Yeah, well, I've been flying blind for months to get you to your resort so I'd appreciate it if you got the hell off my back."

"Oh, just shut up and quarantine the goddamn defective areas!"

"I don't see you running three hundred and forty-eight scans over nine hundred thousand systems so do me a favor and _shut the fuck up_. Sir."

Dejah silently glanced between the two men with enjoyment as they fought. Mac had only been recently hired and quickly proved to be fun. He was tall with a bony frame under the navy jumpsuit he wore with a young, handsome face and Asian eyes. Allen, on the other hand, was short—no taller than Dejah herself and much shorter than her in heels—with a round body. He was reasonably handsome for his age, greying hairs and all, with a face that reddened like sunburn when he was angry or drunk. He was the most recent source of her toys, most of which happened to be shiny.

When the alarms finally stopped, Mac leaned back in his seat and stretched his hands to rest behind his neck. "Left front engine's gone and the back's just barely holding on. Navigator got wrecked. I have no clue where we are."

"Send out an S.O.S."

"Already did. Now we wait."

"Mother fucking…" he mumbled and Dejah placed a hand on his cheek.

"Hey, it'll be okay." She placed a kiss on his cheek and wiped at it so it didn't leave a mark. "I need to change. Will you be alright?"

Allen nodded and stroked her hair, looking deep into her silvery eyes. Just as he leaned into her, she took a step back and headed for the door.

_Silly man_, she thought. _Don't mistake this for something it's not_.

With a sigh and the emergency lights still flashing, Dejah realized vacation had been canceled. She changed out of her cocktail dress swiftly, sliding her tanned legs into a white miniskirt and slipped a knitted, silver shawl over her head. In her white boots, she slid a pair of daggers against her calves as she often did and left on her jewelry. The baubles were expensive and sparkly: two of her favorite words. But under the gaudy charms, pressed tightly to her breasts and tucked under her white tube top, a tarnished silver chain rested around her neck.

She could hear the men arguing in the cockpit. Then, their tones shifted to something quieter but Dejah's ears could still hear them clearly.

"Someone's activated an emergency beacon actuator from a Helios-5 coop station."

"The fuck does the mean?"

"It means," Mac continued, "that some important scientists are getting picked up on this rock. We'll stick out a thumb and hitch a ride."

"And you can get us down there?"

"I'll work my magic."

The lights stopped flashing in red and shifted to a florescent white. Dejah grabbed her aviator sunglasses and her mp3 player.

.

A low rumbled sounded in Dejah's throat in frustration. Her eyes held a cold glare pointed at the pair of men as they rapped gently on the door and peered into the windows of the station. She should have been on one of the infamous glowing beaches under the light of Jericho Prime's moons by now. Not in a desert wasteland where the sun was irritatingly bright.

Finally fed up, she ripped the white wires from her ears to silence the music, stomped past Allen and Mac, and threw the front door open. She was in the center of the large, open room before the scent hit her.

There were only faint traces left, but it was enough for her to recognize the fact it was almost familiar, and yet she had never experienced it before. It was the scent of a predator; masculine, definitely, and strong—intimidating, even. It called to her. It spoke to her primeval nature and lured it forth. Slowly, she removed her sunglasses to take in the dim room. Equipment and machinery lined the walls and stacked high on shelves but she and her comrades were the only signs of life other than the ghostly odor in the air. Her eyebrows knit together and she spun a few times to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Where did it come from?

Allen and Mac were too busy exploring to pay much attention to her. Allen already knew the girl marched to the beat of her own drum. She held a childlike innocence that fought a constant battle with a dark and dangerous indifference in a way he couldn't understand. It was part of her appeal, and yet it was the reason he had never felt close to her.

Turning back to the door, Dejah saw it had slammed shut on its own and a message had been written upon it. The words meant nothing to her. Only that the smell was there, too. It fascinated her; she hadn't even noticed when the men came to stand behind her.

"Jesus," Allen said.

"If that's blood, I'm going to hurl," Mac said.

"I'm going for a walk," Dejah said.

"What?"

Dejah was silent for a moment, taking a deep breath through her nose. Then, "Yeah, I'm going to a walk."

"Are you insane?" Allen's eyes were wide in disbelief. In his incredulousness, he grabbed her jaw in one hand and pointed to the red markings with the other. "Do you see—"

Swift as lightning, her small hand clamped down on his wrist with enough strength to break it if she wished. He gasped and the moment his grip loosened, she twisted his arm and shoved it high behind his back.

"Ah! Fuck, Dejah!"

"Don't ever touch me like that again." She spoke calmly and released his arm as quickly as she had captured it. Allen rubbed his shoulder and met her eyes. He knew her personal boundaries and he knew he crossed the line when he touched her so harshly.

"I'll be back before sundown."

"But there's a psychopath out there," Mac said. Dejah shrugged. She had yet to meet a man who could best her in a fight.

"I'll be fine. Besides, that's not for us."

"What do you mean?"

"_'Leave one ship.'_ We don't have a ship, unless you count that paperweight outside. None of us can use it for the long-haul. So it's not meant for us. I'm going for a walk."

"How the hell—"

"Mac," Allen said, his eyes locked with Dejah's as his hand reached out to smooth her hair. She allowed it. "She'll be fine."

She smiled at him once, softly, then stepped back outside and braved the sun. The world burned brightly like an overexposed photograph before she replaced her dark lenses to make boulders and dried shrubbery return to focus.

Somewhere out there, under the blazing sun, were the answers to all of the questions she couldn't yet fathom into words.

.

**So... has potential, right? The angle I'm taking with Dejah is that basically, the world and everything in it are her playthings; to cherish or destroy when it suits her. She's actually very deeply inspired by my cat. lols.**

**Thanks for taking the time to check it out. If you enjoyed it, be sure to review and add it to your alerts so you can stay up to date and I can know if its worth continuing. For visuals, based on what I see in my head, check out my page.  
-Tails**


	2. Chapter 2

**(edit: Just a quick typo and a line I want to save for later. lols. Nothing too major.)**

**So... Hi. It seems I can only write when I'm babsitting for some reason, which is really awkward what with the nature of this franchise. But hey, my editor/"Tails, stop worrying its fine" is my 12 year old brother who for some ungodly reason, knows this series well enough to help tie up loose ends.**

**My new BFF's: Rosmund Chadwick, llamaprincess13, The-Darkened Abyss, and... Guest? lols. Dude, I'd love to say hi; make an account!**

**.**

Untamable

Chapter Two

Between the hard clay at her feet and the dry breeze whipping her hair, tracking was impossible, especially since she didn't know what she was looking for. So Dejah simply wandered, exploring the wasteland idly with the wind at her back. She wasn't used to this climate and regretted that she had not brought any water on her hike, but pride spurred her forward.

Half a day of wishing for more sensible shoes and not truly looking had passed before she found anything of interest. It was a skeleton, half buried in the sand and resting in the shadow of a hill. She knelt to crouch beside it and take in the brittle bones that splintered off in some places and greyed with cobwebs in others. The beast could have easily outweighed her in life. Its teeth were as long as fingers and the round barrel of a ribcage continued down to a pair of legs and a long tail; thick barbs posed at its end. Dejah's fingers grazed over the dust covered bullets buried in its side.

Scuffling sounded and her head whipped up. A canine-creature trotted over the hill and stood no more than a meter away with its dark ears at attention, chocolate brown eyes set on hers, and head cocked to the side. It was male, Dejah could tell as much, and smelled of dirt baths and desert heat but wasn't the animal that had left the pheromone in the coop station. Dejah shifted her weight to stand and he lowered his great head in warning, showing her the whites of his eyes nervously.

Dejah tucked her chin to mimic the stance and challenge his insecurity. Slowly, she slid a hand to her blade. He took a hesitant step forward before changing his mind; he blinked and turned his head away, his stance relaxed.

Dejah moved to stand again, this time taking her blade with her as a precaution. He shook his black mane and eyed her hand suspiciously, tilting his head and waved a paw in the air.

"Don't mind me, puppy," she said, sweetly. "I'm just going to slit your throat if you come at me."

The dog sniffed at the skeleton before them and shook his head as he sneezed. Then, his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted softly, watching her and waiting.

Dejah fought to keep a cold stare on her face. She held out a hand to snap and beckon him.

"Come here, puppy," she said. She whistled—twice short and sharp, and once long—and his ears pricked curiously at the sound.

He came over, his nose twitching and still unsure of her, but prancing with his head and tail held high proudly and no respect for her space.

"Sit."

Dejah knew the word alone was pointless to a wild animal but she planned to give the word meaning. She had taken a step forward to establish position above him, her chin high, a growl on her lips, and her grip flexing around her blade. The dog shifted his stance and—

Sat down.

He curled one leg beneath his body and relaxed his weight on it submissively and… simply sat down.

Tentatively and very confused, Dejah reached a hand out and pat his head. His tail thumped wildly. His back arched at a slight diagonal like a German Shepherd's, with shoulders that would have reached her naval if she were barefooted and a brindled coat. He stretched his head up to lick at her chin and she pushed him away with a giggle. A single finger scratched the fine hairs between his eyes—right where his long snout merged with his skull—and he leaned into it with eyes half closed in ecstasy.

It was decided. He was adorable.

And he simply trotted away. Dejah glared at what she had now claimed as her puppy but didn't have much time to complain. A westward wind blew into her face, showering dust over her and carrying that mysterious odor with it.

She froze. _Idiot_! It was foolish of her to act as prey, to use the gale to shield her blind spot instead of keeping her scent downwind. Her eyes peered across the land and saw nothing.

Whatever this creature was, it knew exactly where she was.

.

Dejah knew the moment it arrived.

She whirled away from the cave she was about to enter, swinging a fist in a swift rabbit punch. She would have struck the man in the stomach but he was reflexes quick; he turned just in time so her fist grazed off his ribs instead. He countered with a right hook but she ducked it and grabbed his outstretched wrist which was covered in a thick, leather glove. She used his own momentum to send him stumbling forward as her leg swept behind his feet. He caught his balance and threw her off hers, causing her heels to stagger on the uneven ground. They disengaged, circling each other slowly.

Dejah said nothing. She kept walking, passing behind him to let her fingertips glance along the skin across his shoulders, behind his neck as she appraised him. But a current traveled from her fingertips through to the hollow at the pit of her stomach. She snatched her hand away and he flinched, turning swiftly to face her and Dejah realized he had felt it, too.

She looked up at him with expressionless eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. He was tall—well over six feet—with a broad and tanned body slightly damp with sweat. His head was shaved clean and Dejah could feel his eyes on her behind the black goggles he wore. She took another deep breath of his scent, realizing at once what it had reminded her of; the similarities to her own were uncanny. It scared her, but she didn't dare let it show.

"You're like me."

.

**A little fast, but let's face it: this would have to be a "three-day-disney-romance." The parts of the movie with the mercs is only two. Neither one is going to give in that easily, trust me, and Dejah, much like my kitty, is going to annoy the hell out of him. lols. **

**Still trying to get the hang of this writing thing; I'm planning on becoming a veternarian and my brother's going to be an architect... it wasn't terrible, right?**

**Shout out to Duke, the retired Greyhound racer of family I babysit, for being the most fustratingly adorable dog in the world and serving as the main inspiration of the alien dog****. My German Shepherd, Sandy-rest in peace, baby-was always just a lazy bum, the brat, but there is still quite a bit of her in there, too. :)  
-Tails**


End file.
